31 Ways to Kill a Weasley
by DramaAnne
Summary: Ron dies for 31 days in a row, previously 365 Ways...Flames will be used to toast marshmellows.
1. January 1st

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, or Ron, or anyone else in this story. If I owned Ron, he would have been dead before the first book even started. Well, maybe a few pages in. If he died before the books began, then we wouldn't get to see him die, and there would be a huge void in my life.

Now, on with the story.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 1st

"3…2…1…Happy New Year to me!"

'This is the year.' he thought. 'I'm going to ask 'Mione to become my wife.'

After four years of dating, Ronald Weasley was almost completely sure that he wanted to think about asking Hermione Granger to possibly become engaged, in the hopes of getting married. Someday.

Always the decisive one he was.

'I wonder what she'll say.' Ron thought, nursing his firewhiskey. Almost every night, Ron could be found at the Hog's Head Pub after he finished his exciting day's work as assistant to the Head of the Department of Magic Misuse of Muggle Artifacts (aka his father). Hermione was practically the only good thing in his life, and he still couldn't decide if he wanted to marry her.

"Barrr-t-t-tenderrr! Annothhherr d-d-drink…pleeease?" Ron slurred.

"That's it. I'm cutting you off for the night."

"B-But, that's not…that's not…" Ron knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say that it wasn't fair. Unfortunately, he was dead drunk, and his mind wasn't up to par. Of course, his brain wasn't normally what people would "call up to par" so he wasn't as out of it as one might think.

"I've got it! It'shz not freight."

'Yes, that's the word I'm looking for.' he thought. That'll teach him.

Tom the bartender just rolled his eyes. This was happening all too frequently. Night after night, Ron would come into the pub, and he always ended up the same way. Around one or two in the morning, Hermione would come and apologize profusely, then drag her unconscious boyfriend home. Tom knew that she deserved much better than that. She only stayed with him out of a confused sense of duty.

_During the final days of the war, Hermione had been captured. The Death Eaters sent a ransom note to Ron, giving an address where they said he could meet them to negotiate her release. _

_Ron, always eager to save his own skin, tried to run away. As he was running through the country side, thinking what a shame it was that he had left Hermione to die, a storm broke out. What are the odds. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron spied a large mansion. One that looked as though it's owner would be rich, and be willing to supply a comfortable bed and a warm dinner. _

_Ron practically ran all the way up the narrow path. When he finally burst through the rather large oak doors, looking like the devil in all his rage, lo and behold, who should he find in the castle? Hermione and Gregory Goyle. Hermione was being pushed up against a wall, and struggling in vain against a man twice her size. _

_Although Goyle was strong, he wasn't the bright have been strong, he wasn't the brightest crayon in the in the box. No, he was probably light grey. Dark grey, the truly dullest crayon in the box was Vincent Crabbe. He strode through the door, looking utterly confused, having gotten his rather large fingers caught in a Chinese finger trap. _

_Poor, poor Hermione looked up at Ron as though he was God sent._

"_You've come to save me haven't you Ron!" She cried, thankfully not living up to her reputation as brightest witch who every lived._

"_Um…Of course I have." Stuttered Ron, too dumbfounded to disagree._

"_O Ron! Harry always said you weren't that smart, but I guess he was wrong about you, just like he was wrong about Snape! You saw right through that phony letter they sent you, and you found where they really had me!"_

_Just then, the Order of the Phoenix, fully armed, burst through the door. _

"_Mr. Weasley!" cried a very distraught looking Minerva McGonagall. "You can't just take off all alone…"_

_Her voice trailed off as she saw the scene before her: Crabbe utterly stuck in his paper handcuffs, Hermione beaming at Ron, her savior, and Ron looking quite smugly at Goyle, knowing now that it was dozens against one._

_Voldemort had been defeated a few days later. His Death Eaters were imprisoned for life, and Ron received an Order of Merlin First Class for his heroism. _

Ron and Hermione had been going out ever since. Ron had come close to proposing on more than one occasion, but always found some excuse not to, or just chickened out.

One time Ron actually did get up the nerve to ask her. He was on a special medication after some oral surgery (Hermione's parents had nagged him about his uneven teeth for ages) and he was feeling rather carefree. Ron skipped (quite disturbingly literally) into Hermione's office (three floors down from his own), and tried in vain to get down on one knee. This resulted in Ron lying on the floor in a fit of giggles asking a very stunned and embarrassed Hermione to marry him.

Of course, Hermione said yes. Honestly, how could she say no when he made such a big deal out of asking her, and half her co-workers had heard. Still on a mega drug trip, Ron was determined to show Hermione a new room he had just found in the Department of Mysteries.

Against Hermione's wishes, she was dragged into the off-limits area. When Ron finally found the correct room, Hermione had to admit, it was breath taking. It was as though the northern lights had been captured and put on display just for them.

It was the first genuinely romantic thing Ron had ever done for Hermione. So romantic, that they barely noticed when the Unspeakables arrived. They didn't notice anything until they were grabbed from behind and obliviated. The entire day was erased from their memories.

Even until today, Ron thinks he went to the dentist, there returned home with a throbbing headache on May 23, 2000. Hermione remembers the same thing. She oddly seems to remember doing or saying something that she regretted, but according to her, that's impossible. She was home sick with Ron all day.

So, back to the present. Ron is currently drunk out of his mind, and, oh dear, he just fell off his barstool.

Tom rolls his eyes as if to say "not again" and goes behind the counter to get his smelling salts. Darn, out of smelling salts.

"I guess I'll just have to make my own." Tom mused out loud to no one in particular.

Hum… old milk, slug juice, peanut butter, and vinegar. That should wake him up.

"Come'on Mr. Weasley, just smell it."

Ron's eyes fluttered open then closed again.

"I didn't want to have to do this." Tom said while tilting Ron's head backwards and pouring the vile drink down his throat. "Drink up."

Ron's eyes shot open. He looked around then began to speak.

"Bloody hell, you couldn't find a better way to wake me up? What was in that bloody thing?" Ron asked, almost not wanting to know.

"Oh, just some stuff I found under the counter. Slug juice, milk, peanut butter and vinegar. Nothin' poisoned."

"You twit! I'm allergic to peanut butter!" Ron screamed.

With that Ron promptly keeled over, and a was dead just minutes before Hermione came to get him. Not surprisingly, Hermione took the news of her boyfriend's death very well.

"I had the terrible feeling that someday he might propose, and I just wouldn't have the heart to say no. He's a nice guy and all, he's just a loser."

End January 1st.


	2. January 2nd

Disclaimer- Am I JK Rowling? Let me check… Nope. So I guess I still don't own Ron or anything else. Pity.

January 2nd

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Come on Ron! We need to collect the herbs before sunrise, or they won't work!."

"Blimey 'Mione, why'd I have to come? Couldn't you have brought Harry or Neville or someone?"

Hermione and Ron trudged through the bleak Forbidden Forest, just before dawn on January second. Ron, having been dragged out of bed and threatened with the jaws of life, agreed to come with his girlfriends to gather herbs for a particularly difficult potion.

"Please Ron! It's only a little further!" Hermione berated herself for her lack of judgment. Surely Ron would soon realize that there was no Leaf of Mortmost, and if there were, it certainly wasn't used in potions. Of course, this was Ron. It would be hours before he caught on that this was no ingredient hunt. If he ever caught on that is. Regardless, the task at hand should be accomplished swiftly before they aroused suspicion from anyone still in the castle.

Hermione glanced over into the thicket beyond the clearing and a small smile played on her lips as she spied a dash of black against the glistening of the morning snow.

"Ron, I need to go use the loo. Can you wait here a minute?"

Grumble. "Fine I'll just wait here."

Ron stood in the clearing, completely oblivious to his surroundings, as Hermione hastened into the thicket to meet a certain dark clad figure.

"Malfoy."

"Granger."

After a slight pause, the blonde boy smirked and pulled the girl into a kiss. She reluctantly pulled away, giving a small nod to the redhead standing in the clearing. He was gawking at something. For a brief moment, Draco was afraid they had been spotted, but then he realized what the boy was staring at. A stag peered out from behind a tree, some thirty of so meters away.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, amazed at how some are so easily amused. Turning his attention back to the girl in front of him, Malfoy wondered what she had ever seen in Ron. Maybe she was drawn to his innocence. Yes, some girls liked a boy who hadn't been with many girls. It probably made them feel important, to be their first. Or maybe she was upset that she didn't have a chance with Harry, so to spite him she went out with his best friend. No matter, she admitted her one time infatuation with him was over, and she was now completely devoted to her future husband.

Yes. Future husband. Who knew the Gryffindor know-it-all was so capable of leading a double life? She had simultaneously been wooed (with varying success) by Misters Malfoy and Weasley. In the end, Mr. Malfoy had captured her heart.

The only problem was what to do with Mr. Weasley. He never caught on that Hermione was dating another person, and it would cause a scandal if he even did. Therefore, it was decided that Ron must die.

"You got the bow?"

Malfoy didn't reply, but held up a perfectly crafted, well used crossbow. The arrow, made of ice, was specially charmed to stay frozen until the heart was pierced, then to melt, leaving no trace of malice.

Ron was still standing in the clearing, looking as clueless as even, when the blonde boy stepped out from behind a tree.

"Hello _Weasel_. I don't believe I ever wished you a Happy New Year." The arrow whirled through the air toward Ron at an alarmingly rapid pace, but for Hermione it seemed to happen in slow motion. Out of the bow, a flash of fear in Ron's eyes. Into the thicket, a brief moment of eye contact, betrayal, hurt, and more fear. Closer and closer, surprise and loneliness. Into his chest, no more emotion.

Ron's light blue eyes went dead.

Now, Hermione wasn't completely heartless, she turned away from the corpse, leaning into Draco's chest. She had made her choice. There is never any knowing whether a choice is the right one, and Hermione was already feeling the pangs of doubt.

In the east the sun rose. It peered over the grounds of Hogwarts. It half an hour, Hermione Granger would run, sobbing and panting, clutching her boyfriend's dead body, into the hospital wing. She would tell Madame Pomfrey the lie that she had rehearsed for months. Just before dawn, she had gone into the Forbidden Forest to gather herbs, bringing Ron with her, and he had been attacked by a centaur.

Tensions between the centaurs and the wizarding community were high, and the tale would likely be believed. Furthermore, why would the Head Girl admit to being in the Forbidden Forest, knowing it was off limits, if she wasn't actually there? Detention would be served, profuse apologies would be made, tears would be shed, but in the end forgiveness would be granted.

Of course, the engagement would be postponed. Hermione would become a robot, feeling nothing for years, to gain pity. Then, and a savior, a knight in shinning armor, Draco Malfoy would appear. He would take Hermione out of her grief, and no one would even care that her had fought for the Dark Side in the final battle. No one would care about the mark burned into the flesh, just as no one would care who his father was, or where he planned to live with Hermione once they where married. All that would matter was 'Mione's happiness.

Yes, the plan was flawless. Draco would leave now, so as to be in bed when Hermione returned to the castle. With a final kiss good-bye, he turned and strolled back to the school.

With a sigh, Hermione began her charm work. The blood was cleaned up, using a simple _evanesco_ spell, and bruises were planted on his body, as evidence of a struggle.

Looking down at the face of her former friend, a thought came into Hermione's head.

Nothing is free. Even love has a cost.

How true that was.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Review please! And send along any ideas you may have!


	3. January 3rd

Disclaimer- If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be writing book seven so I could make millions of dollars, not writing online for free.

January 3rd

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Come on Ron! We need to collect the herbs before sunrise, or they won't work!."

"Blimey 'Mione, why'd I have to come? Couldn't you have brought Harry or Neville or someone?"

Hermione and Ron trudged through the bleak Forbidden Forest, just before dawn on January third. Ron, having been dragged out of bed and threatened with the jaws of life, agreed to come with his girlfriends to gather herbs for a particularly difficult potion.

"Please Ron! It's only a little further!"

Ron stopped dead in his tracks. Major déjà vu.

"'Mione? This may sound weird, but Malfoy's not gonna come out from behind a tree and shoot me with a cross bow is he?"

For a moment, Hermione looked stunned at this odd question, the she regained her composure and replied.

"Of course not Ron, why would you think that?"

Ron stifled a laugh as he turned his attention back to the path in front of him. Hermione would never hire someone to do him in. Especially Malfoy. She loved him.

Behind him, Hermione glanced into a thicket, and, seeing the dark clad figure she had hope to see, gave him the "forget the plan" sign. The figure's eye's caught her own, and then turned suddenly and stalked back toward the castle.

Hermione turned back to see Ron staring at her inquisitively. She offered a small smile, hoping secretly that he wouldn't catch on. Now that the plan was foiled, she needed to find some herbs to collect. This definitely wasn't worth getting detention over. Now she just needed to find some bloody herbs and get the heck out of the forest. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted brightly colored leaves.

"Ron! It's the Mortmost!"

"But I thought that was just Dittany?"

"Oh, yes, of course. It looks so much like Mortmost."

A low rustling was heard somewhere further into the woods. It could have been any number of non-dangerous and completely harmless noises, but it caught Ron and Hermione's attention. The sound was heard again, somewhat louder. Now there was no doubting that whatever it was wasn't friendly or harmless.

The noise build from a small rustle to a steady rumbling, and continued to grow until the din was near deafening. Ron looked around, trying to find the source of the noise, and his eyes settled on a cloud of dust stirring in the distance. In front of the cloud, the form of a centaur could be made out. Now Ron was no expert on dust clouds, or centaurs, or anything else for that matter, but even he could figure out that one centaur couldn't make a cloud that big.

Hermione, sensing a way to execute her plan, ducked behind a tree, leaving poor Ron to fend for himself.

The centaurs came closer and closer, until Ron could see the pure rage in their eyes. In that instant, Ron's life flashed before him. It was a very inconvenient occurrence, seeing as how it distracted him just as a herd of angry centaurs came galloping through.

Hermione turned away. This wasn't how she envisioned the mission being put into action. It was supposed to be a quick, painless death. There should have been a body to take back to the castle, and much less blood. As the stampede cleared away, Hermione almost lost her breakfast.

Ron wasn't even recognizable. He had practically burst like a balloon from the initial impact of the herd. After that, his Hogwarts uniform was torn to bits, saturated in his own blood. It was not until a few moments later that the stench reached Hermione. She almost keeled over when the scent of blood filled her nostrils.

With one last look, she got up and fled. Running as fast as she could, she hardly noticed the blonde boy smirking from behind a tree.

'She should know not to back out of a plan, especially when I was so looking forward to it. No matter, the centaur were willing enough to cooperate. Now, she just needs someone to help her get over the emotional stress.'

Draco stole one last glance at the mess smeared on the floor of the forest before hurrying back to the castle.

The forest was silent. There was an ominous feeling of death in the air. The next week there would be a closed casket funeral for the boy-who-didn't-live. Hermione would come, cry, and go home.

No one ever needed to know about the true nature of the morning's expedition.

Thus ends the rather boring life of Ron Weasley…again.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Yay! Don't you think this deserves a review? Please? They inspire me to write faster. Click the button on the left. No, Minion #1, your other left.


	4. January 4th

Disclaimer #1- I don't own Harry Potter.

Disclaimer #2- Flamers don't own me, so I'm going to keep writing.

Just a quickie. This is a little plot bunny inspired by a flame I received.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hermione Granger sat in the Gryffindor Common Room. Right now, she was perfectly content: no studying (NEWTs were over), no first years, no second years, and no Ron. She could finally focus on her favorite hobby.

Knitting.

Yes knitting. Hermione thought it made her look more mature, and less of an annoying know-it-all. Unfortuanatly, Ron didn't think so. He made this know as he burst into the common room.

"Hey 'Mione! Come play Quidditch with Harry and I!"

Hermione was about to correct him and say "Harry and _me_" but she decided against it, not wanting to explain the proper uses of "me" and "I".

"I'm busy Ron." She replied, trying to be patient.

"You're just knitting."

"_I'm very busy Ron_."

"Come on Hermione! It's not fun with only two people!"

"Then get someone else to go."

"We want you to play."

"I can't right now."

"Can't you quit being an old maid for a while 'Mione?"

Ron just didn't know when to stop. If he had ever paid attention to people who pushed Hermione too far, he would have known to leave her alone.

As Hermione's eyes met Ron's, he saw the familiar flare. Only then did he know he done something wrong.

"I'll just he leaving…" He said, quickly turning to go, but Hermione was faster.

She leapt from her seat by the fire, plunging the knitting needle into Ron's heart. As she stood over his dead body, the portrait hole creaked open, and in walked Harry.

"Hermione, did Ron ask you about playing Quidditch?"

In Hermione's eyes, the fire was rekindled.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Sorry for the short chapter, I really needed to write something in which Ron was killed by a knitting needle. If you need to know why, read the flames I've gotten. Next chapter will be up soon. Please review! Leave compliments or constructive criticism.


	5. January 5th

Disclaimer #1- I don't own Harry Potter.

Disclaimer #2- Flamers don't own me.

Some people need to learn that there's a fine line between honest and classless. If you don't want Ron to Die, STOP READING RIGHT NOW. If you keep reading, don't comment on how this plot is stupid, immature or a waste of time.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 5th

Pants? Check.

Shirt? Check.

Tie? Check.

Shoes. Damn, forgot again.

Ron Weasley ran from the Gryffindor common room back to his dormitory. He got down on his stomach and reached under the bed, trying to find a pair of shoes. His labors were rewarded, as he stood up, a pair of brown uniform shoes in hand. After slipping them on, he had one of his very common brain lapses.

There was only one solution when Ron forgot how to tie his shoes.

"HERMIONE!" He yelled coming down once more into the common room. "'Mione I forgot again."

"Honestly Ron! You can be so immature. You don't see Harry-" The know-it-all started, but the sentence was to go unfinished as a voice was heard on the stairs leading into the room.

"HERMIONE! I need help with my tie!"

As Harry got into the room, wearing an untied tie around his neck and a frustrated look, the portrait hole slammed shut, leaving two rather confused looking boys alone.

"Did I say something?" Inquired the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Us-All.

"I don't bloody know." Replied the Boy-Who-Wasn't-Important-Enough-For-A-Title. "Did we do anything differently from yesterday?"

_Flashback to Yesterday_

"HERMIONE! I forgot how to tie my shoes."

"Not again Ron! You're going to have to remember sometime."

"HERMIONE! I need help with my tie!"

_End flashback_

"Nope, we didn't do anything different. If we're not the problem, it must just be her."

"She really shouldn't have lashed out on us."

OoOoOoO

Hermione didn't come to breakfast. In classes, she sat as far away from the boys as possible, even opting to sit with Crabbe in Potions. She left as soon as the bell rang, and didn't show up at lunch either.

OoOoOoO

By dinner, Harry and Ron had given up looking for Hermione.

"Does your pumpkin juice taste a little strange Harry?"

"Yeah, it does. The elves must have had some mulling spices left over from New Years." Concluded the red head.

"Those are some bloody horrible mulling spices then." Replied Harry, pushing away hid juice. "I think I'll just have water.

"Suit yourself." Said Ron.

Having forgotten all about the events that morning, Harry and Ron were shocked to see Hermione strut into the Great Hall, a triumphant look on her face. It was actually quite frightening, really.

"So ends the Boy-Who-Lived and his sidekick! Their deaths-" Hermione's obviously well thought out and no doubt moving speech was cut short, mainly owning to the fact that her eye happened to catch Harry and Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table.

They weren't dead. That in itself wasn't so bad, but it was the fact that they were alive that royally pissed off Hermione.

"You…you didn't drink all your pumpkin juice did you?" She ended almost meekly, her whole plans falling to pieces before her eyes.

Harry's eyes opened wide (both literally and metaphorically). He stared at Hermione with newfound remorse and fear. There was now no question as to why the pumpkin juice tasted a bit off.

Ron however, didn't fully comprehend the situation.

"Bloody Hell Hermione! You don't have to scream like that. Look, I'll finish the juice if you'll shut up and come sit with us." To prove his point, Ron drained his goblet and smiled at Hermione invitingly.

He received a smile in return; a smirk to be more accurate. Ron gave her a questioning look, but all of a sudden his eyes shoot wide open. Several choking noises escaped from his lips, and his face turned a rather unfetching shade of blue.

The Great Hall was silent, for once, as the entire population of Hogwarts watched the drama unfold. Snape in particular looked quite amused. He watched for a few moments, genuinely interested at Mr. Weasley's face turned different shades of blue.

"Poppy," He asked, nudging the woman next to him "Are you going to help or should I call St. Mungos?"

This comment jolted Madame Pomfrey back to reality. Embarrassed by her momentary lack of judgment, she bustled down the hall to Mr. Weasley side.

"Try to breathe Mr. Weasley!" She cried.

"I don't think your helping." Came a silky voice from behind her.

"I know perfectly well what I'm doing, Severus. Don't you have some glory to go brew?" The mediwitch shot back.

"Very funny Poppy, but I suggest you turn your attention back to the matter at hand. I don't believe a _death_ would be good way to start a new year. Do you?"

Madame Pomfrey looked for a moment as if she might reply, but wisely decided against it. Much to her immediate joy, but upon further thought, dismay, Ron's face had turned back to its original color.

"Oh, dear." Shouldn't he have blinked by now? The answer was obviously yes. Still, Madame Pomfrey held Ron's head in her hands, willing those eyes to flutter, or that mouth to twitch. She needed to know he wasn't…

"He's dead."

When she could no longer stall no longer, she announced the news to the eager students.

The Great Hall was silent, until somewhere, a single sound, a single person could be heard. That person was Hermione Granger, and the sound was laughter.

OoOoOoO

Hermione Granger is currently in Azkaban prison, awaiting her trial. Fortunatley, Madame Pomfrey was able to keep her job. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die saved the world, defeated Voldemort, blah, blah, blah.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Yay! He died again! Thank you to all the people who reviewed chapter 4! I think I like having Hermione be the villain. It's really fun to make her snap. Review button is on the left. Click it and like a magic, a little screen will pop up and you can share with me your inner most thoughts about this story. Ohh! It's magic.

If you like death or anime or you want to read something and want to take suggestions, read "I will be chained" by "NeverendingDarkness"


	6. January 6th

Disclaimer –I don't own Harry Potter.

Thank you to "Stray Kitty" who gave me the odd yet interesting idea to kill Ron using a limerick. Because a limerick wouldn't take very long to kill someone, I assume this will be a very short chapter.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Ron sat at the computer that Harry had set up for him over the summer. He had become a particular fan of reading muggle poetry, and he had joined a website where wizards posted muggle style or muggle inspired poems.

He scrolled down pages upon pages of poem titles until something caught his eye.

_Death by Limerick_

The title was catchy, and Ron had to admit, he was curious. However, you know what they say, curiosity killed the kneazle.

Ron opened the poem, and read the rather unusual verse.

"_There once was a man who was dead._

_His eyes had rolled back in his head._

_I mock you because I have magic,_

_And your death will surely be tragic._

_Avada Kedavra to you."_

'That last line doesn't even rhyme.' Ron thought.

He was about to click the "send feedback" button when there was a blinding flash of green light.

Ron's eyes rolled back in his head, and a message popped up on the computer screen.

"I mock you." The message read.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

This chapter wasn't really up to par, (which according to some people isn't very high to begin with) because it is very hard to kill someone using a limerick. Next chapter will be up within a week. If I give myself a deadline I'll force myself to write.


	7. January 7th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, or the idea of Ron dying, or the English language, or gravity.

Darn! Why didn't I patent gravity when I had the chance?

Yes, this is an actual chapter and not a quickie.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 7th

The staircases moved ominously back and forth, almost daring an unwise student to climb them. A lone boy stood at the top of the stairs. He had mastered them. He was a champion, a conqueror, a Slytherin.

Draco Malfoy spent the better part of his afternoon reaching the almost unreachable south corridor of the seventh floor of Hogwarts castle. The journey was much like a video game, hopping from one staircase to the next; avoiding trick stairs and performing the levitation spell on one's own body if one should fall.

It would all be worth it in a little while. First, it's important to know about the secret passage way to the seventh floor. There is a secret passage way to the seventh floor, but it happens to be through the Gryffindor boys' dormitories, and seeing as how Draco would never be caught dead in there, he was forced to se the stairs.

Ron Weasley on the other hand, used the passage way all the time.

His best mate Harry told him about the passage way a few months back, because the desolate, unused seventh floor was a good place to go if a person wanted to study away from the crowds of the common room, or in Ron's case, escape a nagging girlfriend.

"Ron do your homework! Your grades are slipping!"

"Ron take a shower! You've been playing Quidditch all day and you're filthy!"

"Ron you know copying Harry's answers is cheating and that's against school rules!"

Bloody hell. All she did was criticize. When Ron and Hermione got together, Mrs. Weasley was thrilled and told Hermione to take good care of him and she did, with enthusiasm. Ron ate all his vegetables, he never stayed out past curfew, and thanks to his new haircut, his hair no longer covered his eyes while he slept during class.

Ron knew Hermione loved him, and he definitely loved her, but sometimes Ron just needed to get away from it all and be alone. That's when he came to the seventh floor.

Tonight, it was so peaceful; just the moon in the window, the sleeping portrait, and that scumbag Malfoy.

Ron did as double take as he saw Draco leaning up against a walk a few meters away from him.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?"

"Temper, temper _Weasel_. As Head Boy I can go anywhere in the castle I want. You on the other hand, are out past curfew." Malfoy smirked at Ron, trying to decide how many points to take off.

Luckily for Gryffindor, Draco remembered his reason for being on the seventh floor and bit his tongue.

Ron, trying to forget the stuck-up pureblood's presence, leaned over the railing separating him from six flights of stairs.

"Long way down Weasley." Malfoy commented.

Ron spun around upon hearing Malfoy's voice so close behind him.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" Ron asked, sensing a hidden agenda.

"Calm down. If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you a long time ago." Malfoy was pleased that his comment attained the desired look of fear on Ron face.

Of course he could have killed him long ago, but he had his orders. He was to wait until 11:30. At that moment, the stairs would shift creating a gaping hole down the center of the school.

First contrived as a way to keep students in their beds after curfew, the arrangement had the potential to be deadly. With no staircases, a student could theoretically free fall six stories, almost surely to their death.

Draco checked his watch.

11:28.

Only two more minute before his task could be completed. The awkward silence remained, both boys deep in their own thoughts.

11:29.

One more minute. Draco began to wonder if he would be able to pull it off. Surely Ron was strong enough to play keeper for the only team that could beat Slytherin. Who was to say that Ron could not easily over power him?

11:30.

Too late now.

The clock in the Great Hall could be heard far, far, below sounding the half hour.

Ron was still leaning over the banister, lost in thought, when he heard "Silenco" and felt his legs being pulled out from under him.

He opened his mouth to yell, but no sound came out. He plunged through the air, unable to grab anything.

The last thing he saw was a smirking Draco Malfoy shirking into the darkness above him as he fell into the darkness below.

-----------------------------------------------------

Professor Lockhart had, to the dismay of the students, returned to teach Defense Against The Dark Arts. The students didn't take to him any more than they had years before, and truth be told the teachers didn't seem to like him any better than the students did.

He was just going for his 11:25 walk around the castle. His favorite thing to do was to watch the staircases shift to their nightly resting places.

3…2…1…shift. A few creaks were the only sound to be heard. Lockhart stood looking upward to the ceiling for a moment longer before he saw a dark figure moving toward him.

His last thought was 'That looks like young Mr. Weasley.'

------------------------------------------------------

Draco Malfoy gazed in satisfaction as Ron Weasley's body fell unto theconvientiantly placedbody of Professor Lockhart. Not part of the original plan, but a nice added effect.

Now, to go see his partner in crime.

-------------------------------------------------------

The door to the Room of Requirement creaked open, revealing a small sitting room for two. A man sitting in a chair before a roaring fire turned around and looked at Draco when he entered.

"Well Harry, it's done."

And Harry smiled.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Ok, a lot of people told me to have Harry kill Ron for a change, and since it wasn't technically Harry killing Ron, it was the thought that counted, and Harry wanted him dead.

I guess I kinda proved that I can write a chapter in only one day, despite what I had told some reviewer. I just can't turn down a dare. (If you don't understand read my reviews for chapter 6.)

Leave reviews if you want more chapters! Of course, reviewing my friends stories also make me happy, so R+R "_I will be chained_" by "**NeverendingDarkness**", "_Christmass Madness_" by "**mustang'smistress**" and/or something by "**lesalanna**".


	8. January 8th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

Haven't updated for a while, so I figured I should. My friends told me she's been waiting for the update email.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 8th

A girl lay motionless in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Had she been awake, she could have recognized the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, but she wouldn't know how she got there.

The students and faculty seemed equally awestruck. Even Dumbledore looked as though he had been presented with an unnervingly difficult conundrum.

It was Madame Pomfrey who decided that whoever the girl was, she should be taken to the hospital wing. It was a miracle she survived her twenty five foot fall onto the Quidditch pitch. Once the girl awoke, they could question her on her appearance.

Kali Buick awoke in a room with whitewashed walls. Her head spun, as her tried unsuccessfully to sit up.

This place…

It couldn't be…

Hogwarts.

She had read about Hogwarts, and had devoured stories of the Marauders and the Great Harry Potter. It was surreal to think that she was where she thought she was.

'But that would mean _he_ must be here.' The girl thought with a smirk. This could be quite interesting after all.

OoOoOoOoOo

The fall having left Kali with an arm broken in three places, she was forced to spend the hours before lunch having her arm painfully healed.

Luckily, it was her left arm, because Dumbledore decided that as long as she was at Hogwarts, she might as well attend classes. Albus Dumbledore had a spare wand that had been confiscated from a third year (he refused to tell where he had gotten the wand, but as no students where missing their, Dumbledore kept it).

Kali had never felt such an indescribable surge of power as the time that she first held that wand.

She felt power stronger than she had ever felt, and an urge to let her power loose.

In an instant, she knew why she had been sent to Hogwarts. Her mission was clear now. The last necessary tool was now in her possession. She thanked Dumbledore for the wand, and set off to her assigned house, Gryffindor.

Kali felt as though destiny was on her side, as she entered the common room to find precisely the person she was looking for.

Hermione Granger was sitting in front of the fireplace with her boyfriend Ron. Ron was making a sad attempt at trying to kiss her, as Hermione avoided distracting contact at all costs. Kali approached the pair, and putting on her most innocent face, addressed the Weasley.

"Um, Hi, Are you Ron Weasley?" She asked shyly.

The redhead looked inquiringly at her before slowly nodding.

Kali continued her act, more determined than ever not to fail.

"Dumbledore told me to talk to you. I need a tour of the caslte. I'm new and I guess he wanted me to have a guide or something." Her wide eyes shone with childlike innocence.

Ron gave her another odd look.

"Maybe Hermione should show you around, then you two could talk about, I dunno, girl things."

The bushy haired girl next to Ron gave Kali a welcoming smile, and she started to stand, but Kali, sensing a snag in the fabric of her perfect plan, interjected.

"No, no. Dumbledore was very clear that he wanted the Head Boy to show me around."

"Well 'Mione," Ron started as he stood up, "If Dumbledore wanted me to show her around, I guess I should. I'll see you tonight, I guess."

He got up and moved toward the portrait hole, ready to accompany her.

'Stage one accomplished.' Kali thought as she clutched her wand tighter. Seeing an abandon Albus Dumbledore Chocolate Frog Card on a table near by, she grabbed it and followed Ron.

OoOoOoOoOo

The winding halls of Hogwarts were a perfect place for foul play. A body deposited in a dark abandoned corner could be left unfound until it began to smell and Filch came to investigate.

This thought and others like it crossed Kali's mind as she roamed the corridors with her escort. The time of her task was drawing closer.

She knew that wand was hers. It is said that the wand chooses the wizard, and that a magic person knows when they've found the right wand. Maybe Kali wasn't as much of a muggle as she thought.

The wood began to feel hot, as if it could foresee its mission. The mission would be wonderful. The killing curse was like fire. You don't need much of anything, just a spark of heat, a spark of hatred, and it enveloped all it came in contact with.

Kali knew her moment had come.

"Ron?"

The boy paused in the middle of a very long speech of how two members of the Chudley Cannons had graduated from Hogwarts, so it was pretty much the greatest school et cetera, et cetera.

"Ron, I'm really sorry about this, but this is something I have to do."

Ron looked dumbfounded, and Kali admitted to a slight feeling of guilt. True, she had to do this, but no, she really wasn't sorry.

"Avada Kedavra." She whispered darkly. The spell's signature green flash accompanied a short scream, followed by a soft _thud_.

As Kali stepped over the body, the world around her dissipated into darkness, and she found herself in the familiar room thirteen of St. Walpurgis Academy. Her friend Anne sat next to her gently prodding her with a pencil.

"Kali, you feel asleep again."

"Huh? Oh, yeah right. Hey Anne, I might have a way to clear your writers block for that story you're writing."

A look of interest came across Anne's face, and under her desk, Kali ran her thumb over the laminated face of Albus Dumbledore.

End January 8th

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

So, there's Chapter 8, I had a bit of a writer's block, so I haven't been writing, plus I have midterms coming up, so if I don't post for a while I'm probably studying.

I need a beta, because my grammar and spelling both suck, so contact me through message, email or comment if you're interested. If you become my beta, you get to see all the chapters before I post them and you will have a small amount of creative freedom to offer advice or make small changes to the story.

Please review. I want review for my birthday which is the 15th!


	9. January 9th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, not that I want him, but I'm sad that I don't own Snape because he rocks!

Thanx to my betas **-writin'-like-crazy-**and **Obsessed-with-random-theories-about-Harry-Potter** because everyone knows my grammar sucks.

I've been wanting to write this chapter for so long because Snape is my favorite character, and January 9th is his birthday.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 9th

9:25 am.

Severus Snape was not happy. He very rarely was, but that is beside the point. Today he was even more unhappy than he was yesterday, or the day before that, or the day before that. Severus tried to remember the last time he had been this unhappy.

Oh yes. His _last_ birthday.

Every year, January 9th served to tell him that he was another year older, and he had successfully wasted another year of his time teaching, instead of something more useful.

As he stalked down the hallway toward his chambers, robes billowing behind him, he dreaded what he might find in his quarters.

OoOoOoOoOo

9:28 am.

Albus Dumbledore was very happy. Of course, he was always uncannily and annoyingly happy, but today was special. He remembered the last time he was this happy. One year ago, on Severus' last birthday.

Every year, Albus threw a "surprise" party for Professor Snape down in the dungeons. It wasn't much of a surprise anymore, seeing as how he planned it every year, and every year Snape looked less and less surprised.

Although Severus always acted like his usual self at the party, Dumbledore believed that beneath that sneer he was truly enjoying himself.

The only surprise now was that every year, Severus managed to restrain himself from strangling Albus.

As Severus entered the party, the staff jumped out from behind sofas, walls, chairs et cetera, and yelled "Surprise!"

"Oh, it gets better every year." Snape drawled, rolling his eyes as McGonagall escorted him over to his place of honor at the table. He sat down, eager to get the whole affair over with, and was quite surprised when he heard a knock at the door.

Seeing that the whole staff was present, Severus wondered if it was another guest at the door. The look of Albus' face suggested otherwise.

Because no one else made a move to open the door, Severus got up and opened it himself. It was a student.

Well, at least it was a Slytherin.

Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, confused as to what kind of madness would lead Professor Snape to have a party. It was all too bizarre. Today was a strange day, first the…

Oh shit, he almost forgot why he had come here.

"Sir, I didn't realize you were, entertaining company?" Draco said with a smirk.

This earned Draco a glare from his Head of House.

"Why did you come here Mr. Malfoy?" Severus asked coldly, his patience wearing thin.

"There's a fight in the girl's loo. It's Weasley and Pansy."

"Miss Parkinson and Miss Weasley?" The Professor asked, glancing back at Dumbledore as if to ask whether he had permission to leave. Dumbledore nodded.

"No Professor. Mr. Weasley and Miss. Parkinson." Draco said as he followed his professor toward the girl's loo.

How Draco knew about a fight in the girl's bathroom, Severus didn't want to know.

OoOoOoOoOo

9:32 am.

Ron had Miss. Parkinson in headlock when Professor Snape arrived.

"Mr. Weasley, if you don't wish to spend every night until the end of term serving detention with Filch or myself, I suggest you release Miss. Parkinson.

Ron contemplated his choice for a few seconds before slowly letting go of his hold on Pansy's neck. She gasped for breath and ran over to Draco, flinging her arms around him and sobbing. Draco awkwardly put his arms around her.

In a display of possibly the worst timing in the history of the wizarding world, Harry Potter chose that moment to burst into the bathroom.

"Ron! I got reinforcements!" The smile on his face quickly disappeared owing to the fact that the most hated professor in the school was sending him his patented death glare.

The effect was not in the least bit diminished by the fact that they were standing in a girls's loo.

"Potter," He whispered dangerously, "I am in no mood to put up with your insolent petty fights. If you don't want Gryffindor to find themselves two hundred points behind, I suggest you leave. Very, _very_ quickly."

Harry didn't need to be asked twice. The rest of his crew had disappeared the moment they had seen Snape. He did feel a little guilty leaving Ron all by himself with two Slytherins and the Greasy Git, but that was just too bad. Ron was on his own.

As Snape turned his focus back to the boy in front of him, Ron's face went pale, and his blood ran cold.

"Weasley, I'm not in a good mood today, and I don't need you to try my temper. You will serve detention with every night until I tell you you're finished. Also, I think a hundred points from Gryffindor will suffice."

Severus turned to leave, and Ron, furious because Pansy got off scotch free, made a comment that he would regret for the rest of his short and pathetic life.

"Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the dungeon this morning," He murmered.

If Ron had expected an ex-spy not to hear this, he was horribly mistaken. In a flash, he found himself with his back against a wall, and a hand on his throat.

"Care to say that to my face Mr. Weasley? There are curses I know that would make your hair stand on end, and I have ways of making things look like accidents." Snape paused. "Of course, I would hate not to see you at detention, but I think I'd survive."

Draco and Pansy had been inching toward the door since Ron had made his comment. Even the Slytherins feared their Head of House, and they knew when he was angry, it was best not to get in his way.

Snape heard the door close, followed by two pairs of feet sprinting down the hallway. A smirk appeared on his face.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, it seems the witnesses have left." The Potions Master applied more and more pressure to Ron's neck as the boy turned blue. Just before he fell unconscious, he released his grip and took out a small knife from his belt.

"I'm not going to suffocate you Mr. Weasley. That would not satisfy me. I want to get to the heart of the matter, and everyone knows the best way to a person's heart is through his ribcage."

With that, he plunged his knife into Ron's chest and let the now lifeless body slump to the floor.

Something told his that he wouldn't be at Hogwarts on his next birthday.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I've been wanting to write this for so long!

If anyone wants to know I had a wonderful birthday.

Please review!


	10. January 10th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

I got my learners permit today, so I'm very happy. Happy enough to commit murder! Did you ever think spiders might hate Ron as much as he hates them?

Thanks to **0rangeorchid** for beta-ing this chapter.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 10th

A trail of spiders moved up the walls of Hogwarts: they could be seen only in the dim light of the waning moon. They silently slipped into the castle in a fashion reminiscent of that scene in Chamber of Secrets played in reverse.

So the spiders crept into a room that (oh so conveniently) happened to be the Gryffindor boys dormitory. They began to form a single circle around the bed of Ron Weasley. A single circle became two circles, and so on: strength in numbers.

OoOoOoOoOo

Ron was peacefully asleep in his bed, when his spider senses started tingling. He sat bolt upright in a split second, pausing midway through the action of jumping out of bed. Ron emitted a small yelp, and, wincing, climbed back into his bed.

Ron tucked himself under the covers, creating a cocoon of fleece and cotton. He willed sleep not to come, for he knew as soon as he feel asleep, he became vulnerable to the arachnid army.

As Ron attempted to stare down his foe, they employed a bizarre tactic. The front row slowly rocked backwards and forwards, from the front four legs to the back. Ron became mesmerized the rhythmic swaying and he felt his eyelids drop.

The spiders didn't waste one moment. The first line advanced with lightning speed to the edge of the bed and formed a ladder like column for the other spiders. The second row advanced, climbing up the newly made bridge between the ground and the enemy.

As the spiders reached the plateau, they started to implement their plan. A few spiders crawled down the narrow tunnel that was Ron's throat, while the others took on the laborious job of creating an escape rout for the explorers.

OoOoOoOoOo

Ron felt a scratch in his throat. He tried to cough it out, but when that didn't work it occurred to him that there was something actually in his throat. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. The pain of suffocation was rivaled only by the pain of the hole being dug in his stomach.

As the world blacked out around him, Ron felt his stomach burst open. If he had lived for a few more minutes, he would have seen three spiders emerge from the hole, their duty finished.

OoOoOoOoOo

The spiders returned again to their home in the Forbidden Forest. They reported their success to their master.

Aragog was pleased.

"Goodbye, friend of Hagrid."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

So many reviewers said I should use spiders, so here they are. Ron is dead yet again. Sorry this chapter took so long, between midterms, track and being sick, its taken me a while.

Once track is over, I'll be able to postchapters much more often. I think we have about four more meets and then I'll have a few more after school hours (until spring track starts).

Please review.


	11. January 11th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 11th

'Miss Bushy Head mustn't get away with this.' A very disgruntled house elf thought sneaking into the Gryffindor common room late at night. 'No she mustn't not. To unwillingly free a houseelf! The nerve of Miss Bushy Head.'

The elf walked confidently into the room, no longer afraid of hidden freedom traps (a.k.a. knitted goods, compliments of Miss Bushy Head.)

Yes, she would pay, but not in her own blood. Her blood, or more correctly that bushy head of hers, seemed to be a prized possession of the inhabitants of the castle.

"Miss Granger, that head of yours must be worth a million galleons!" One teacher had exclaimed after Miss Bushy Head gave an obviously very correct answer. That stupid head was safe, but Mr. I Want Bushy Head was not so safe.

What did they call that one? Weasle? Maybe. Whatever they called that one, his head was not as safe as Miss Bushy Head's head.

The elf smirked as she snapped her fingers and disappeared from the room with a quiet _pop_.

OoOoOoOoOo

She appeared the same instant in the boys dormitories. As she approached the first bed, she heard the boy moan. Since all boys sound the same, she assumed this was Mr. I Want Bushy Head.

Using her special elven magic, she threw open the curtains and with a small crack, the boy's eyes were open, but they no longer saw.

'Shit.' The elf thought. 'That no is Mr. I Want Bushy Head. Well, at least it's the other friend of Bushy Head. Mr. Pothead I think they call him.'

Deciding to be more cautious, she open the next curtains by hand, but the poor boy happened to be a light sleeper, and he awoke. He met a similar end as Mr. Pothead.

'This one should be him.' Thought the elf, hoping she wasn't wrong again. Luckily, she wasn't. In the bed, sleeping soundly and snoring lightly, was Mr. I Want Bushy Head.

No sooner had the elf seen the flaming red hair, then its owner stopped snoring.

Forever.

(He also stopped breathing for just as long.)

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

This chapter started from a really good idea, but ended up kinda sucking. At least I was able to write after mustang'smistress was pounding on my foot at Coffee House saying "You'll never write again!"

IMPORTANT NOTE!

I plan to continue this story for as long as I can, but as some people can see, it's becoming longer and longer in between chapters. I welcome any ideas, the more developed the better.

If you send an idea, make it as detailed as possible. Seriously, if you even want to write, like, a whole chapter, feel free. I have 365 days to fill, so just e-mail me (click the e-mail link in my profile) any chapters you might happen to have written.


	12. January 12th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, and I sadly don't own the song either.

This is a mock-song-fic, using a song my friend made me listen to a few weeks ago.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 13th

Hermione loved Ron, and Ron loved Hermione. The problem was, Ron loved Hermione as a sister or a friend, and Hermione loved him as more than that.

Harry loved Ron, and Ron loved Harry. The problem was that Harry loved Ron like a brother, and Ron love Harry, as, well, more than that.

_I'm the only gay Eskimo  
I'm the only one I know  
I'm the only gay Eskimo  
In my tribe_

Every day Ron watched Harry do his homework, hoping that the studious boy-who-lived would ask him a question in that cute little confused voice. Ron loved that voice. It was the voice that asked such adorable things as "Ron, why are you staring at me?"

Merlin, how Ron loved this boy.

I go out seal hunting with my best friend Tarka  
But all want to do is get into his parka

Homework time progressed in silence, until Harry broke the silence.

"Damn, my ink ran out. Ron, can I dip my quill in your well?"

Ron meant to say "sure", but what came out was,

"You can put your quill in my inkwell any time you want Harry." No later had these words escaped him lips, then a hand shot up over Ron's mouth. He stared in wide-eyed horror at Harry, who was, coincidentally, staring wide-eyed at him.

Unable to think strait, Ron tried to cover up his faux pas.

"Um, Harry, what I meant was I want your quill… or, my ink is… I FUCKIN' LOVE YOU!

_  
I'm the only gay Eskimo  
In my tribe  
_

Ron ran through the hallway, willing himself to believe that he had not just spilt his secret to the unobtainable object of his affection. Harry hadn't even replied, but stared dumbly, contemplating the startling revelation. Ron didn't need him to say a word. His silence spoke volumes.

Now, running aimlessly, Ron felt all his regret and fear coming up into his throat.

Wait. That was dinner. He threw up in the corner of the hall before realizing where he was. He was right in front of the Room of Requirement.

'All I need right now is something to make the pain go away.' Ron thought, pacing back and forth.

_  
Well me and Nukflukchukbuk  
We both like blubber  
But me I've got this crazy fetish for rubber_

Now the Room of Requirement could have been merciful and given Ron some Advil, or some sleeping medicine. Even Firewhiskey wouldn't be that bad.

But no, the Room just had to give him a revolver. Even worse, it was a loaded revolver.

The gun sat on a crudely made wooden table illuminated by a single shaft of tinted yellow light.

Ron approached the gun with caution.

'Something to take the pain away.' He mused silently to himself. Ron slowly picked up the gun, and ran his and over it. The steel was cold and polished, and he could see his own reflection. He put his hand on the trigger, feeling the power to sustain or end life running through his fingers.

A low whir was heard, meaning the Room was making an adjustment. Another shaft of light came from the nonexistent ceiling to reveal a row of beer bottles at the end of the room. Ron held up the gun, and shot t the first bottle.

The bullet missed, and was assumed by Ron to have been absorbed into the wall; owing to the fact that now sound was heard. Ron shot at the same bottle again, this time hitting the very base and shattering the bottle into a million pieces of glass.

The bottled disappeared one by one, and the gun next dissolved in Ron's hand. Ron clenched his fist in an attempt to grab the disappearing weapon, but it was no use. A slight breeze (the Room had a flair for dramatic effect) reminded Ron that he was all alone.

I'm the only gay Eskimo  
In my tribe

Sensing that there was nothing else to be done there, Ron left the Rom of Requirement. As soon as he got into the hall, he began to run. He didn't know why, but his legs took him to the astronomy tower.

Ron froze as he stepped onto the observation roof and not only physically froze either (it was the middle of winter) but he metaphorically froze, metaphorically in his tracks.

He wasn't alone.

"Sorry Ron, uh, I was just leaving." Harry said awkwardly. Ron was too dumbfounded to even speak, but he happened to notice the redness of Harry's eyes, like he had been crying. 

I make a wish on the Northern Lights  
That I can find a decent pair of whaleskin tights

I'm the only gay Eskimo  
In my tribe

Ron walked over to the place where Harry had been standing, right at the edge of the tower. There was a low stone wall guarding the unfortunate sleepwalker from the hundred foot drop.

Ron peered over the edge. Impulsively, he stood on top of the wall and spread his arms out, feeling the full force of the wind. The wind lashed his face and made the fresh tears sting more. 

And the seals they sing now...  
seal noises

These cold winter nights  
Are taking their toll  
I even get excited when I see the North Pole  
See the North Pole...

In a final resigning moment, Ron let his legs go limp, and let his body fall into the abyss below.

I'm the only gay Eskimo  
Only gay Eskimo  
I'm the only one I know  
The only one I know-oh-oh-oh  
I'm the only gay Eskimo  
In my tribe

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I love that song so much. Its called "The Only Gay Eskimo" and my friend does a really good impression of the people singing it.

When I said I gave up pitching my friend's story, I lied. Read "I Will be Chained" by **NeverendingDarkness**.

As always, please review.


	13. January 13th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

January 13th

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The pain…

The agony…

The torture…

The Octopus.

The book assigned for Muggle Studies class must have been the worst book ever written. Not only was it about wheat farmers, but it was nearly 600 pages long. Ron groaned as he turned another agonizingly long page. He held back a yawn, knowing that he needed to finish another 25 pages before tomorrow.

Not even Hermione could resist the dull drone of the book, describing for pages on end how the wheat looked and moved out in the fields of Western America.

"I'm bloody glad I don't live out in that California place. Sound awful out there." Complained Ron, throwing down the book and stalking across the room, arms folded.

"Just a minute Ron, California's where all those surfer girls are from! I would mind listening to some guy drone on about wheat for a while if we got to see some girls in swimsuits."

"Blimey! Why couldn't they put some of them in the book! I going bloody insane because of this book. Why the bloody hell did I even take Muggle Studies in the first place?"

"I think you were fancying Hermione in some of those muggle jeans." Harry joked. In reality, he didn't know why Ron took Muggle Studies. He couldn't have possibly thought that the professor would let them wear muggle clothes to class. Then again, this was Ron we were talking about.

"Honestly Harry, how was I supposed to know that the professor wasn't going to let us wear muggle clothes? I think it was an extremely reasonable request."

Harry gave Ron a small sympathetic smile, and Ron went back to his reading.

Hours passed, and Ron's eyes seemed to be glued to his reading. He didn't speak, but just continued to stare blankly at the page. After a while, Harry stopped hearing page turns.

He turned to see Ron, slouched down in his chair, eyes still open. There was a vacant look on his face, and not his regular vacant clueless look, but a new vacant kinda dead looking look.

Ron Weasley had done what was previously thought to be only metaphorically possible. He had literally died from boredom.

Let this serve as a warning. Never read a 600 page book about wheat.

Just don't.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I feel like this right now. I'm reading a book for school called Cold Mountian (the same one the movie is based on, only without the Hollywood entertainment). It's probably the second worst book ever written, next to the other book we had to read this year, The Octopus. 

Hope you all liked this chapter. Please review.


	14. January 14th

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

This Chapter was written by** femaleprongslet**. It was betaed and lengthened by me.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 14th

Ron and Hermione were in Filenes, Muggle store. They were shopping for Ron's Dad's birthday. As usual, Ron was wearing on Hermione's nerves.

He had already tried to make a mannequin talk, and had attempted to try on a woman's evening gown that looked surprisingly like an updated version of his dress robes.

They were currently in the house wares section.

"Hey Hermione, what's this do?" he asked for the fiftieth time that day. He held up a box labled "Ice Chopper."

Hermione was on the verge of strangling him.

"It chops ice!" she explained through gritted teeth. Ron just looked puzzled, unable to grasp the simple concept.

"Why?"

"Because smoothies can't be made with whole ice cubes."

"What are ice cubes?"

"Chunks of frozen water that muggles use to cool their drinks."

"Why don't the muggles just use cooling charms?" Ron asked, rather stupidly.

"BECAUSE THEY ARE MUGGLES AND CAN'T DO MAGIC!"

"Oh yeah." Ron looked bashful at having forgotten the whole "Two Separate Worlds" thing.

Ron was about to ask what a 'toaster' did when he spilled his drink all over himself. Of course, because he was Ron, this caused him to lose balance.

Ron put his hand on the toaster to steady himself while he bent over to get his wand out of his sock, when he was electrocuted.

Hermione didn't even mind that the manager made her buy the toaster. She was just happy that Ron finally shut up.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Death by toaster, thank you femaleprongslet. Anyone else wanna write a chapter for me?

Please Review.


	15. January 15th

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

Thank you to **mizlovegood **for writing this chapter. It was beta-ed and lengthened by me.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 15th

Ron was trying to finish his potions homework, (or more to the point, copy off Hermione) when Harry came in with Ginny.

"Hello, mate, I'd like you to know that Ginny and I are dating," He said, fumbling with his coat button. "Is that okay?"

Ginny glared at her brother. Ron glared back. Harry scattered. Ginny gave Ron one last "_I-don't-need-your-blood-permission_" look, and left after Harry.

When Ron turned back, Hermione had her essay poised in a different direction.

"Hey 'Mione, I can't see the essay," Ron said, totally obliviously. She snorted.

"No, really?"

"Really."

"You half wit, do your own homework." It took him a minute to register what Hermione had said, then another moment to register that this was an insult, and yet another moment to register that insults were bad. See, sometimes Ron had bad days, dumb days, even dunce days, where he couldn't tell left from right and up from down.

The sad thing is that this wasn't even one of those days. He turned to Hermione.

"Please?" He asked. She shot him a glare that, luckily, he understood soon, and then moved out of arms reach. He looked at his essay for a moment, then, realizing he didn't know anything about the Vampire Revolution of 1274, asked;

"Please?"

Hermione jumped on him swiftly, stabbing him at all angles with the quill she had been using. A sugar quill, ironically one he had given her for her birthday.

She finished her deed, and, noticing she was out of ink, filled the pot up with the dribbles of dark blood seeping out of Ron's chest. Then she began to write.

Ah, silence.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

OK, pop quiz! What is special about January 15th? If you're not sure, reread chapter 8!

Please review.


	16. January 16th

This is a truly bizarre one, so I'm just gonna leave it as is. Thank you **EmO-pEaNuT-bUtTeR-cUp**.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 16th

Ron sat pathetically on the end of his 4 poster bed. Feeling extremely miserable and excruciatingly bored he wondered just how exactly he could make some fun for himself.

He resorted to actually having to (for the first time in his life) tidy his room. He went about it with a certain look of pain etched onto his face; obviously he was some what grossed out by the 4 year old moldy Cumberland cheese sandwich growing under his bed.

He picked it up cautiously and made to throw it out of the window, when all of a sudden the cheese sandwich opened up, revealing an awful stench and a hairy green looking slice of cheese. It jumped at Ron and before he could react was nuzzling away at Ron face.

Ron struggled to keep his mouth closed but only to fail when the evil sandwich wriggled its way into his mouth and down his throat. Shoveling deeper and deeper the sandwich finally reached Ron's gut, where it stopped its frantic attempts of throat blockage to take in its surroundings.

The sandwich, after deciding it liked Ron's stomach, settled there and eventually Ron turned a vivid purple color, keeled over, and died.

And this children, is why you should NEVER eat a cheese sandwich that has been around for more than 3 weeks.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Yes, probably weirder than I ever could have come up with.

I've come to the realization that I'm never going to finish this alone, so all you Anti-Ron Fans, help me out! Write a chapter and as long as it doesn't totally suck I'll post it (I have really low standards, as you can plainly see with what I've written).

Of course, I'll still write as often as I can, but this will put less stress on me and give everyone else a chance to kill Ron.

Please review.


	17. January 17th

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

This is so cool, people keep writing me chapters! I've gotten about five people who've sent me chapters (one will not be posted, it was to graphic for me). A few more people say they'll write chapters. Once they stop, I promise I'll write some more, but for now I'm enjoying my break.

Once again, only beta-ed and lengthened by me. Written by **BlackVulture**.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 17th

Hermione, in one of her frequent attempts to "culture" Ron, has taken her boyfriend to a muggle mall. Unbeknownst to Hermione but beknownst to us, this latest attempt to show Ron the world she came from just might happen to be her last.

Ron looked around the Muggle shop in wonder, amazed at all the electronics.

"Hermione, how does that show those pictures?"

"That's a T.V. Ronald, and, oh dear god this is like explaining it to a child, its magic, Ron." Not realizing the howling error she had made.

"Wow, the Muggles have learned to do magic now? I have to remember to tell Dad!"

Oh god. Hermione turned around to check out the cosmetics department. A bad time to do so, for it was at that point Ron saw a sign for a credit card. It said: Take Now, Pay Later!

Ron, being a naive wizard, thought it meant you could take anything, and pay for it later. So, he grabbed one of the magical portable TVs and walked out of the place.

He immediately set off the anti-theft alarms.

Oh, no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Hermione whipped around, just in time to see the police step out of the squad cars outside.

"Freeze punk!" They cried, raising their pistols.

Ron, confused, whipped out his wand, thinking they wanted a duel (they had, after all discovered magic).

"He's got a weapon! Open fire!" The police fired, and a hail of bullets filled the air. They all caught Ron, and he went down, still wondering what he did wrong.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

So ends another life of Ron.

I've come to the realization that I'm never going to finish this alone, so all you Anti-Ron Fans, help me out! Write a chapter and as long as it doesn't totally suck I'll post it (I have really low standards, as you can plainly see with what I've written).

Of course, I'll still write as often as I can, but this will put less stress on me and give everyone else a chance to kill Ron.

Please review.


	18. January 18th

Disclaimer- I own nothing. I don't even own this concept anymore, seeing as how this story nowbelongs to everyone.

I actually wrote this one. All of it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 18th

"Oi! Ickle Ronniekins!" Fred and George called up the stairs at the Burrow. "How'd you like to make 3 Galleons?"

Ron came down the stairs, looking suspicious.

"Doin' what?" He asked tilting his head to one side, trying to act as though he was driving a hard bargain.

"Preliminary product tests…" started Fred.

"…but that's all we can say." finished George.

Ron really hated it when they did their twin-ly finishing sentences thing. It made him think their was something they knew that he didn't.

But, quite frankly, a lot of thing made Ron feel like that.

Ron turned and began to walk up the stair, when the twins turned to each other, and sensing that they might lose their test subject, said in unison-

"5 Galleons."

"But you can't tell Mom." Said George, but when given a sharp nudge in the ribs by Fred, he added "Just kidding."

The twins attempted to laugh off the small slip up, but Ron just continued to stare at them.

"Aw, come on Ron, when have we ever done anything to intentionally hurt you?" Their faces were plastered with obviously false innocence, as Ron thought back to various instances in his past in which his brothers had purposefully caused him bodily harm.

"Well," Ron started "There was that one time with my teddy bear, and then your first summer back from school, and…"

The list could have gone on for a very long time, had the twins not seen their plan falling apart.

"What we mean Ron, is anytime _recently_. Like, the last week or two."

True. The twins had been relatively well behaved for the last few days. A normal person would be suspicious, but then again, and normal person has a job and doesn't _really _need 5 galleons to buy their girlfriend a Valentines Day present. Ron couldn't afford to be suspicious.

"I'll do it, but I want the pay upfront." Ron agreed uneasily.

Fred looks at George, and George looked back at Fred, creating a nice mirror look.

"Alright." Fred finally said. "But really, you can't tell Mom."

Both Fred and George stuck out the hands and Ron, and he rolled his eyes, but still shook both hands in turn. Fred pulled out 3 galleons, and handed it over to Ron.

"You'll get the rest when you finish the job." Ron looked cheated for a second, the pocketed the money and nodded.

"Right. We start testing tomorrow at dawn!" exclaimed George, earning his shocked expressions from both Fred and Ron. Neither of them would have even know what dawn was had it not been for the rigorus Hogwarts class scheduale.

"Fine, 9 o'clock."

OoOoOoOo

At 9 o'clock on the dot, the doors to the twin's bedroom opened to reveal brightly colored smoke and an extremely bright light.

'Drama queens.' thought Ron, attempting to fan the smoke away from his eyes and mouth. Of course, it was unnecessary, because the smoke soon dissolved at give Ron a clear view off two smiling brothers (wearing gas masks). They took off the gas masks and began their inquisition of Ron.

"Could you see through the fog Ron?"

"How well would you rate your vision in the fog? Could you see the light?"

A dozen or so questions later, Ron had relaxed a bit about the "work" he was to be doing for Fred and George.

"Product one, tested, and approved." George concluded triumphantly.

"Now, onto product two." Fred harped, almost skipping to the far corner of the room to retrieve the box labeled (oh, the creativity) "PRODUCT TWO."

From the box, Fred produced a small tube. To Ron, it looked almost like…oh Merlin.

"You two are not putting lipstick on me." Ron stated, but it sounded a bit more nervous than he would have liked.

"It's not lipstick." Fred assured him.

"Just think of it as colored chapstick. Anyway, it'll really bring out your hair color." Joked George.

Ron was about to leave when he felttwo strong hands on his shoulders, and two wand tips in his back.

"I wouldn't leave if I were you. In half an hour, you will be experiencing the first side effects of the Thirty Second Sea Sick Fog. We have to antidote, but if we happen to drop it out the window…"

"…and the vile doesn't have an Anti-Break charm on it."

The twin lowered their wand and allowed Ron to turn around. Ron had to admit, their plan was pretty clever. Thinking of how much he loved Hermione and he needed the money for her present, Ron swallowed his pride and allowed his brothers to try out their entire line of "For The Love of Lockhart" makeup.

Twenty five minutes into his "makeover" Ron began to feel a little sick.

"Do you guys have the antidote to that fog stuff? I'm feeling a little odd."

Fred looked puzzlingly at George, who let out a soft laugh, and said-

"Ron, we were just joking about the side effects, the gas was completely harmless."

"It was just a false threat so you wouldn't bail on us."

"Are you sure, I feel…kinda…kinda..." With that, Ron fell off his chair.

"Fred, I thought you said the fog was harmless!"

"It was, but them again, so was the pizza we made that one time before we knew Ginny was allergic to mushrooms!"

"Are you saying that Ron could be allergic to something in the fog?"

"It's possible." Fredadmitted sheepishly.

George rolled his eyes and bent over to inspect Ron.

"Well, he's still breathing, but he's burning up. I guess we should get some ice."

"Good idea." Fred ran downstairs to the kitchen, where theoretically, there should be ice.

Unbeknownst to him, Ron had just died upstairs. George cam running down the stairs at the exact moment that Mrs. Weasley came through the door.

"Fred, I don't think we need the ice because-"

Here George saw his mother.

"Because I just realized that I can drink all my lemonade before the ice we have melts." He caught himself before giving himself away. He gave Fred one of those really obvious looks that happen in movies and in real life, anyone would notice but in the movie only the two people involved in the look see.

Since this was more movie than real life, only Fred noticed the look. After giving the look, George ran up to the bedroom.

Fred soon followed his example and fled to the bedroom as well.

"What do we do know?" Fred asked George.

"I don't bloody know!"

"I know one thing; we need to get out of here."

Fred and George had just left when Voldemort and his followers (I guess he's still around) blew up the entire Burrow. All the Weasleys died except Fred andGeorge, who had just left, and Bill and Charlie, who are both too cool to die even in some second rate fanfic.

Even Percy was conveniently in the house that day. Probably asking for money or something.

Stupid git.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Kinda stupid ending, but I really didn't want to write a grieving mother scene, and it would be way too OOC to have Mrs. Weasley not care. Also, I guess this takes place after Ron graduates because he's home in mid-January.

Please review, seeing as this one was actually written by me!


	19. January 19th

Disclaimer- I don't own anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

By**mizlovegood**

January 19th

Seamus Finnigan had liked Ginny all of his life, well, since he was 12, but it

was a great majority of his life. He watched her from afar, and one day got the

courage to date her. Happily, she agreed.

But Harry liked her too, and Voldemort knew this. One night, Ginny was

innocently painting her toe-nails, when she heard a tap at her window. It was an

owl. She opened it, and read;

Ginny

If you want to be happy, and have all your dreams come true, meet me at the lake

tonight.

It did not have a signature at the bottom, so she just decided to go. She put on

her sweater and crept outside to the lake a little ways down from the burrow.

"Hello?" She asked, and a huge bag was thrown over her head. She was knocked out

quickly.

Voldemort's plan was coming together. See, all he had to do was wait for the

girl, and let her cry for help. He would send a letter to Harry (who loved Ginny

so much) and he could come running to save her, then... Well, Voldie & Harry

mixed together? It was all part of the plan.

Finally, Moldy Warts wrote a letter to Harry.

The girl is in the forest at the lake... come alone.

Little did he know that Ron would find it! Ron hurried to the lake without a

second thought, and Voldemort, who, though he was mutated, couldnt see in the

dark, thought it was Harry.

"Avada Kedavra!" He cried, but Ron dodged it. But then, Voldemort spontaneously

combusted, and they were saved.

"You mean Harry didnt come? I was expecting him!" Ginny cried. She was so angry,

she killed Ron without a second thought.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Great Chapter not written by me!

Please review.


	20. January 20th

Disclaimer- I don't own anything.

By**EmO-pEaNuT-bUtTeR-cUp**

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 20th

Its ok Ginny no one saw you. They were all asleep, no one saw you go in there or

come out Ginny Weasley thought to herself as she scurried off back to her dorm.

Ginny Weasley was fed up. Fed up of the way she couldn't even look at a boy

without her dung head brother throwing a strop and forbidding her to date a guy

until she wasmarried. Its bad enough having a mother who thinks you're a 15 year old

slapper, but when your own brother thinks youre screwing his best mate in your

free periods that really does just take the bloomin biscuit.

It won't be long now she thought to herself again. She jumped into bed and pulled

the covers over herself. She wondered what kind of affects it would be making at

that moment, and whether or not he would be close to death by now. She hoped

silently that he would die quietly, as to not disturb any one and attract

attention to his dying self.

She didn't know if she could ever face Harry again after this. After all, they

were best friends. With Hermione it was different, they had discussed the matter

many times and decided maybe killing Ron off really was just for the best. But

then again, Hermione was under the influence of 13 glasses of fire whiskey and

some very strong magical equivalent of marijuana when she said it. But that

didn't matter now. It was done, and that was all that mattered.

She was glad she didn't have to see his face before she did it. As she didn't even

bother to pull back the curtains on his four poster. She just let it loose and

that was it. That was the last thing.

All of a sudden Ginny heard a scream. Her heart pounded in her chest. Everyone

around her was waking up and making their way sleepily out of the dorm to see

what all the commotion was.

"NO!"

Ginny heard a penetrating scream erupt from the boys dorms. Someone must have

found his lifeless body and was now mourning over the loss of Ronald Weasley.

But nothing could have prepared her for what she saw next.

Out of the dorm emerged a large figure carrying a smaller figure in their arms.

Ron was carrying...

-HARRY!

Oh my goodness Ron, what the hell happened? Ginny gasped, feeling sick arise in

her throat.

"He's dead Ginny! I found him, DEAD!" Suddenly, before any one could even attempt

to catch them, Ron was tumbling down the stairs. He must have slipped and as he

fell he banged his head sharply on the banister of the stair case.

He lay lifelessly by the bottom of the stairs. Everyone just staring at the two

best friends, the boy who lived and his mascot, in each others arms, both dead

as a door knob.

Of course this wasnt exactly what Ginny had intended, or what she had planned,

but then again, now both of them were dead.

Yep, life for Ginny Weasley was good.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Yes, Ginny is good, like this chapter.

Kill a Ron, Inspire a Writer, Write a Review.


	21. January 21st

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

By **Mizz Moony Luver**

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 21st

THE CHOSEN ONE HAS TRIUMPHED!

The headline was simple and effective, plastered all around the wizarding world. The ghostly mists of war had not yet dissipated the overcast clouds rarely parted. Yet despite the disheartening weather or the heavy rain which was currently coming down in torrents, the collective optimism of the masses was infectious, even amidst the broken ruins of there lives they found something to cling to, a better future.

Moaning Myrtle however thought that nature was reflecting the way she felt perfectly. It had begun as a thought, shameless and fleeting. It had blossomed into a morbid fantasy, and the vision was always different, spinning itself into a complex pattern of selfish hopes and arrogant prayers so beautiful that even Aragog would have envied her cobweb of deluded dreams. Without her noticing her innocent flights of fancy had turned into an obsession, no sooner had he left school after sixth year to destroy Voldemort with his friends had she began to formulate a plan.

Oh, the list of scenarios was endless, the prospect of spending her dismal eternity with the man she had loved and watched for years made every particle of her post-human consciousness tingle with anticipation. She imagined Voldemort, his malevolence seeping from his being infecting the air; in Myrtles mind-eye he pointed his wand at her would-be-lovers heart. Two repugnant words would slid from his mouth, there would be a flash of green light, his body would fall gracefully his eyes closed, his last breath warming his lips and his face oddly tranquil. He would join her though; his silver apparition sliding out of his body would be blown by astral winds back to Hogwarts and at her side at last.

Alas it would not be, Moaning Myrtle knew this in her silentheart that his own heart was still beating and his limbs were flushed with heat that she would never again possess. His picture was in the prophet, along with his two other friends (how she despised that Granger!) He had lived. The sentence made her toes curl with frustration and her eyes grow moist with unsubstantial tears.

O

Gliding past a door Myrtle caught a few words of a lively conversation taking place within.

"-will be returning to complete there seventh year." said Professor McGonagall.

"Oh thats wonderful! Wonderful! Granger was always my best student! I'm glad her value of education has rubbed off on the other two!" Flitwick chirped, rather obnoxiously.

Myrtle was breathing hard useless breaths then she made a sound she had not made in what seemed like forever, it was laughter, but it wasnt the pleasant infectious kind but rather mirthless and scheming. She flew through the endless labyrinth of hallways and classroom, all she needed now was to get Peeves to cooperate, it was no mean feat but Myrtle was motivated, nothing could deter her from her plan.

O

Harry, Ron and Hermione were battle weary. War was brutal and none of them held delusions that the ghost of battles past would ever cease to haunt the treacherous hinterland between sleep and awareness. The familiar surroundings however were heartening, a silken net of happy memories which all tree drew around each other basking in there individual reminisces. Were home said Harry, drawing happy sigh. Ron nodded solemnly and Hermiones face was lit by the first true smile in a year.

O

Myrtle did not wait long to perpetrate her depraved plan. Turning invisible Myrtle stalked the three friends, pleased that Peeves had thoroughly booby-trapped the boys washroom. Simply looking at the back of her true loves head elicited desire and overwhelming happiness that he was now in her reach. A quarrel between two Hufflepuff girls behind her drew Myrtles attention, distracted by there unnecessarily load bickering she only just heard someone say:

"I need to use the loo."

By the time Myrtle had wiped around the trio had been swallowed by a throng of oncoming students. Smiling devilishly she hurdled herself toward the boys restroom to watch the performance, she knew it was going to be engaging.

O

Ron stepped into the restroom slightly over eager, if only he had known what was lying in wait for him perhaps he would have been in less of a hurry. Rons jaw dropped as he entered. Standing there was one of the most bizarre contraptions he had ever seen. It was the sort of madcap thing his father would have taken pride in. Little did Ron realize that opening the door had begun a chain of events, seemingly random and utterly pointless. Somewhere above Ron a row of dominos fell, one by one, a candle in the opposite corner burned through a single thread held taut just above it, a bottle rocket flipped a switch (which was not connected to anything in particular) and a paddle wheel began to spin in a slow melodic fashion of it own accord.

"Aw. Did Peevesys little show distract Myrtles love? BAD PEEVESY!"

Ron wheeled around just in time to see Peeves standing behind a suit of armor which certainly did not belong in the boys toilet. It took only a second for Ron to realize that Peeves was holding one silver axe-wielding arm up, and yet another second for the horrifying truth to dawn upon him that Peeves was letting the arm go. The axe was coming down fast, falling on a bewildered Ron who did not even have the time to utter one last Bloody Hell. Peeves assessed the gruesome scene before him. Rons fiery red hair was flecked with blood, his maroon Christmas jumper saturated with crimson.

"Oppsey daisy!" said Peeves innocently.

O

Ron was still bewildered when he finally sat up, but in addition to his patented look of utter confusion he was silver and transparent. Ron was feeling cold and strangely numb; he couldn't quite remember exactly what he had been doing a few minutes ago. But before he could put his thumb on it Moaning Myrtle popped through the nearest wall absolutely beaming.

"My love you have finally joined me!" She cried with elation, however upon seeing Rons corpse and his phantom sitting closely beside it, positively flabbergasted, her face fell and she looked dejected.

"You're not Harry."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

No he's not Harry. Harry had the sense to to be a loser. If he was, I'd have to creat a fic to kill him.

Please Review.


	22. January 22nd

Disclaimer- I don't own anything, neither does the author of this chapter.

By **Amber Gryffindor House**

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

THE LAST BATTLE!

18 year-old Hermione looked at the Ancient Runes translations she held in her hand. The Famous Four had found the parchment where they had met Robert Anthony Brindle (R.A.B and destroyed the last Horcrux. The Runes seemed familiar. Thank Godric Gryffindor she had taken Ancient Runes for almost five years.

And you all thought it was useless! She exclaimed as she pulled a chair up to the nearest desk in the Common Room. Ron and Harry leaned over her shoulder, trying to read the strange symbols.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered.

"Hermione, what is it?" Harry demanded.

"Listen," She said running her index finger over the far left text. "_And we shall meet when the moon raises after the seventh bright moon wanes in this celestial year. And we shall meet where no person dwells, a place forbidden, where the foulest creatures lurk._"

"So?" Ron commented.

"So, that means they will meet the day after the seventh full moon at midnight. Thats tonight and its already past 11! And where no person dwells a place forbidden THE FORBIDDEN FOREST!"

Harry dashed up to his dormitory and grabbed his invisibility cloak. Without another word he, Ron, and Hermione walked through the portrait hole. Harry threw the cloak over them and they rushed down seven flights of stairs.

They crept across the grounds, past a small, familiar hut where Hagrid slept peacefully, and into the forest no student was supposed to enter.

Little by little, the light cast from the moon disappeared and the trees began to grow close together. The teens were draped in darkness.

"Lumos," Harry thought, trying to maintain silence (which was becoming increasingly difficult). No only were they trying to hide three rather tall teens under an invisibility cloak that could barely cover two children and a baby dragon, but the roots of nearby tree were becoming unruly, causing Harry, Ron, and Hermione (But mostly Ron) to trip.

After half an hour of "Ow, Ron! Thats my foot!" from Hermione, "OW! Ron! Thats my foot!" From Harry, "Harry you'll kill the spiders, right? Like you did in the maze?" from a very frightened Ron, and "Shut up! You guys are louder then something really really loud!" from Harry, the three of them could see a clearing in the distance.

An empty clearing.

Harry pulled the cloak off of them and headed out into the middle of the clearing.

"Right here, Hermione? Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded absolution. Harry walked back over to his group on the very edge of the clearing.

"Hide. You guys needn't get involved."

Hermione picked the cloak up off the ground and pulled it over Ron and herself. Harry walked back to the middle of the clearing. There he stood for no more than a few seconds when he heard a rustling nearby.

He gripped his wand tight in his hand as Voldemort stepped into view, shortly followed by three cloaked and masked Death Eaters. But Harry knew who they were. Draco and Lucius Malfoy. Three of the people Harry hated most were standing before him.

Hate flashed in Voldemorts red eyes as he advanced on Harry, wand raised. Harry, too, raised his wand.

"Looking for a duel, Potter?" Voldemort hissed.

"I know more than you give me credit for, Voldemort." Harry smirked. Voldemort didn't know he had no Horcruxes left untouched. Voldemort hadn't any idea how well Lupin had taught Harry Occlumens and how to duel. Voldemort knew nothing of the fact that one of his favorite Death Eaters hadn't died, but helped Harry destroy Hufflepuffs cup. In fact, Harry knew quite a bit more then Voldemort knew.

"Now, Harry. We bow."

Harry bowed without breaking eye contact and raised his wand in defense position. Voldemort raised his wand in attack position.

Harry's mind was racing. 'What if Voldemort used the killing curse? There was no way to deflect it. Dodge it maybe, but deflect it never.' Though Harry's wand was raised in defensive position, he was the first to act.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" Harry thought. Voldemort fell to the ground, bleeding as if he were slashed with 10 knives. Lucius rushed over to Voldemort and began tracing his wounds. Draco at a feeble curse at Harry who dodged it easily.

"GUYS!" Harry yelled in the direction of the last place he saw his friends. "Malfoy Sr. mustn't heal Voldemort!"

Ron and Hermione appeared suddenly and rushed over to Lucius sending curses his way until, finally, he stood and began firing back.

Suddenly Bellatrix Lestrange walked amidst the small battle and began dueling beside Lucius with Ron and Hermione. Harry dodged every curse Draco sent, and still more Death Eaters were appearing all around them!

Quickly, Harry turned to see Ron and Hermione fighting 5 Death Eaters. Not to mention Voldemort was no where to be seen.

"AHH!" Harry cried out in frustration. He began venting his anger on the 6 Death Eaters still in the forest, starting with Lucius Malfoy.

Still, 4 Death Eaters surrounded Ron and Hermione. Harry was trying to help his friends but Bellatrix was obviously intent on dueling him.

Hermione, Ron managed to say before dodging a purple tongue of flame. If we

(IMPEDIMENTA) don't make it!

"Ron! No good byes!" Hermione yelled back as she sent the Freezing curse towards the nearest cloaked figure. Just one Death Eater remained dueling them.

"I want you to know" (WATCH OUT!) Ron yelled. Hermione wanted to move, run, scream, but as her imminent doom in the form of a bright blue light drew nigh she stood. Perfectly still; frightened beyond movement. It wasn't a second thought for Ron. He grabbed her shoulder and pushed her aside, being hit squarely in the chest with the Breathless Curse. He fell to the ground. The only Death Eater left to battle turned his attention to Harry, who was on his hands and knees, panting.

Hermione knelt beside Ron, tears falling down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around him, whispering in his ear.

"Ron, you're so stupid! Why did you do that?" She sobbed. Ron wrapped his arms around her, his breaths growing shorter, shallower, and more forced.

"I need you to know," He said in a feeble, weak voice. "That I will always love you." He kissed her cheek and closed his eyes, knowing what fate was waiting for him in just a few more moments.

"Ron no please," Hermione sobbed into his shoulder. "I love you, too. Please don't leave me! Please, Ron I love you I love you!"

Softly she heard Ron's last breath slip from his body.

"NO!" She yelled. "No…" She whispered pulling Ron's body closer.

Harry knelt beside Hermione and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

For how long they both sat there, they couldn't recall. The night had been a failure. Lucius Malfoy and Lestrange both Disparated with Voldemort. Draco Malfoy broke his own wand and ran. Voldemort hadn't died, but Ron had.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Again, great chapter by someone else. I had to change a few small things, but this is probably 99 **Amber Gryffindor House**'s original chapter. I did change Snape into Lucius because Snape is innocent.

I'm sad to say that this story is really losing steam, so I'm going to finish out January and change the title to 31 Ways...

Please don't send anymore chapters. I have one or two that people have sent me that I'll use, but I really want to finish the story on my own. I would be honored if people started their own stories to finish out the year. Consider yourselves challenged!


	23. January 23rd

By mizlovegood

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

January 23rd

One night, Ron Weasley was feeling unusually smart. He had been pining for Hermione since he was young, and thought he might have a chance.

"What an idiot," He thought, "I don't have a chance!" He rolled over and looked at the ceiling. He heard someone laugh, and turned around.

Ginny and Harry came into the common room holding hands. Ron's mouth fell to the floor. He stammered for a moment, and then Ginny rolled her eyes. His eyes stung not because of anger but because she hadn't told him that she and Harry were dating.

How could Harry betray him like this? He turned to leave and saw Hermione come out of the bathroom with Seamus. His eyes could not hold his tears this time. He _Accio_ed his broom, and flew up to the roof.

An hour later he stood, prepared to jump off, when he heard a soft cough from behind him. It was Hermione.

"What do you want?" He asked moodily. He wanted her to go so she didn't have to watch him jump. She had hurt him so much.

"Ron, Seamus and I-"

"No need to explain." He said quietly, "I understand if you like him."

"No!" She cried, "I don't!"

She didn't want him to jump.

"Seamus went into the wrong bathroom, he thought it was the boys- so we came out together. We weren't doing anything!" Ron's stomach loosened with relief. He pivoted to kiss her, and slipped backwards. He went tumbling off the roof.

"_Accio_!" A male voice cried. He zoomed back up. Seamus held him by the hand.

"I can't have you dying without knowing the truth." He said, and passionately kissed Hermione before letting Ron drop to the ground, where he died on impact.

'I really liked him' Hermione thought, 'But what can you do?' So she snogged Seamus.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

When in doubt, snog Seamus!

I miscounted last chapter, I actually have 2 more prewritten chapters after this one, then I plan on writing the last 6.


End file.
